You flatten your golden-furred body against the damp earth, each careful step placed with centuries of predator's grace. The shadow creatures continue their chittering as you creep within earshot, their twisted voices like nails on slate. 'The bell almost ours,' hisses one with too many jointed fingers. 'When last chime fades, the path will open for Him.'

The largest shadow creature - a hunched thing with spines along its back - lets out a wet chuckle. 'The kitsune guardians grow weak. None left to stop us now.' It scratches at the tear in the barrier, making it stretch slightly wider with an audible rip. A few drops of black ichor fall from the wound in reality, sizzling where they touch the moss.

Your whiskers twitch violently at the mention of kitsune guardians. How many of your kin have already fallen to these creatures? The white foxfire suddenly reappears near your ear, pulsing urgently. It wants to lead you away, but you catch another snippet of conversation: 'The human village first... then the spirit gates...' The creatures break into horrible giggles, their many eyes gleaming with malice.

The wind shifts unexpectedly, carrying your scent toward the shadows. One creature's head snaps up, its nostrils flaring. 'Fox!' it screeches. The others immediately begin sniffing the air, their spindly limbs tensing. The foxfire bounces frantically toward a thick cluster of ferns - your only nearby cover.